


Filthy

by Epiphanyx7



Category: High School Musical
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-11
Updated: 2009-12-11
Packaged: 2017-10-16 20:14:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/168925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Epiphanyx7/pseuds/Epiphanyx7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>He wanted Ryan filthy, covered in dirt and grit and sweat. He wanted Ryan to stop being so fucking immaculate, with his shirts tucked in and his slacks pressed and ironed. Chad wanted - he wanted to muss Ryan's hair, to smear dirt on his skin, wrinkle his clothes and bruise his skin</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Filthy

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote and finished this back in May, but apparently I had shame then because I didn't post it. No matter. Situation now rectified.

Ryan Evans was so god damned annoying. Not in an in-your-face, obnoxious, pissing-Chad-off-at-every-turn kind of way, but in a more subtle, grating-on-his-nerves-every-single-second kind of way. It was just too much, sometimes, and Chad knew - well, every one knew, it was totally freaking obvious that Ryan was gay.

But, seriously? Could he be any more flamboyant? If he were any more flaming, he'd be on fire. Literally. Chad wouldn't have been surprised if Sharpay carried like, a miniature fire extinguisher in her purse along with her Yorkie, just in case such a thing would happen. It was - the hats, right, but also the clothes, and the way he walked with his shoulders back as if he just expected people to look at him. It was in the way he held his head up, not flinching away or even looking down because he wasn't ashamed of who he is.

And like, that was totally cool, the guy was gay, not like, an axe murderer or anything. He really shouldn't be ashamed, not at all - and even though Chad felt guilty for even thinking it - the truth was, Ryan was fucking arrogant.

He walked around all - whatever - with his head high and that stupid annoying fucking smirk on his face, like he knew all of your secrets including that one time when you jerked off in the bathroom at your best friend's house before when you were twelve so you wouldn't make a mess of your sleeping bag. It wasn't fair that Ryan could be all - stereotypically gay, with the singing and dancing and his showtunes and fashion sense and hats, and his unfair ability to wear pink regardless of the season. He was too pretty, with his pouty dark lips and the way he could borrow Sharpay's lipgloss and spend the entire day at school looking like he'd just been kissed.

That was just unfair, unfair and wrong. Chad had no idea why it bothered him so much, Ryan being Ryan, but it really, really did.

He was too - pristine. Too clean, clean-cut and clean-shaven and untouched; his skin glowed when anyone else would have been dripping sweat. There wasn't anything about him that was masculine, he was a freaking girl, aside from the part where he could think on his feet and lie without turning into a stammering idiot, and how he was stubbon and determined and he got this really steely look in his eyes whenever you did something mean to someone he cared about. No, Ryan wasn't manly or athletic - but he wasn't really girly or wimpy, either. And, if Chad hadn't been there to personally witness Ryan's abilities playing Baseball, he would have thought that it wasn't possible at all.

Ryan, the prettier Evans twin, wearing his pressed and starched white shirt and his too-tight white pants, his fucking hat and his stupid shoes - and he'd started pitching with an intensity that had shocked Chad. Actually, it had shocked the entire team, and they'd suffered in stony, horrified silence because Ryan had been pitching a no-hitter until Jason had accidentally knocked one into the outfield and managed to reach second. After that, the game got suddenly really intense, even though Ryan was goofing off, teasing Chad about the stupid talent show and dancing on the pitcher's mound like a fucking ballerina.

It had been hot and dusty and Chad had gotten angry, flushed with exertion and whatever else, watching Ryan be good at something, a sport no less, and without Sharpay there to screech instructions. It was unbearable, Ryan acting like one of the guys, suddenly diving after the ball and sliding around, getting dirty for Christ's sake.

Ever since then, knowing that Ryan was pretty cool and stuff even when he was being an annoying little bitch, Chad had started fantasizing about him. Nothing totally weird, because he'd pretty much gotten off on Ryan's smirk for the first two years of high school (and yeah, that thing with Sharpay's lipgloss had totally sent him reeling for maybe a week, it was a good thing they hadn't had a basketball game or he would have been useless). It was all the other stuff, though, wondering how Ryan would react if Chad just pushed him to the ground, got his brand-new designer shirt muddy.

It was a never-ending temptation, every single time Chad saw Ryan, he wanted to shove him into the ground, pin him down. He wanted Ryan filthy, covered in dirt and grit and sweat. He wanted Ryan to stop being so fucking immaculate, with his shirts tucked in and his slacks pressed and ironed. Chad wanted - he wanted to muss Ryan's hair, to smear dirt on his skin, wrinkle his clothes and bruise his skin.

As much as he wanted to, it would never happen, because Chad wasn't about to attack Ryan and start beating him up or anything. Ryan was just so fucking clean - and Chad wanted -

The fantasies slowly got more and more plausible, the more he thought about it. He couldn't punch Ryan in the face or wrestle him in a puddle, Chad knew. But he couldn't help but wonder how hard he'd have to hold him to leave a bruise on Ryan's pale skin.

If he kissed him, softly, just a brush of lips and a shared breath, would Ryan's lips feel as softly wet as they looked? And even Ryan didn't have the presence of mind to immediately shove Chad away and seek out his banshee/harpy of a twin sister, if he actually let Chad - then Chad could fist his hands in Ryan's shirt, wrinkling it and pulling it out of place, pulling Ryan closer.

He could strip Ryan of all of his clothes, pulling on them and tearing them when they wouldn't come off quickly enough. He could bite on Ryan's neck, lick broad stripes on his chest and suck dark bruises onto his ribcage. He could scrape his teeth on the line of his hips, press soft kisses to the inside of his thigh -

He wanted to, that was the horrible thing, he wanted to have Ryan Evans under him and moaning and sweaty and desperate. He wanted him out of those stupid clean-cut, impeccable clothes, wanted them crumpled on a heap on the floor, forgotten. Chad would have given his right arm or his leg or every single one of the hairs on his head to have Ryan there, sweaty and arching up underneath him, desperate and hungry and male.

It really wasn't fair, then, for Ryan to be such a fucking tease, walking around school in Sharpay's lip gloss, looking unsullied, unspoiled, virginal. He smirked like nobody's business and licked whipped cream off of his fingers in the middle of the cafeteria and then smiled that stupid, sunny, innocent smile, the one that made Chad want to push him down onto the gym floor, or lick into his mouth and bite his lips, or something.

He wanted to grab Ryan before homeroom and drag him into a stairwell, strip him down and lick him all over, suck a hickey onto his neck too high for his shirt to cover, bite his lips and drag his fingers all over Ryan's stupid beautiful skin. He would go on his knees and suck Ryan's cock, take his time and make the other boy beg for it; when Ryan came in Chad's mouth it would be with a totally wrecked-sounding moan, and then Chad would help Ryan get dressed and purposely do up his buttons wrong, make sure his shirt wasn't tucked in and his hair was as messy as Chad's fingers could make it. When Ryan walked into homeroom looking like a mess, with his lips dark and swollen, his expression glazed, that annoying smirk firmly in place, everyone would look at him and know what he'd been doing. Ryan would slide into his desk with a satisfied smile, turning his face towards the teacher, and everyone would know he wasn't innocent or sweet.

Chad would smirk, tug Ryan's hat down a little bit over his messy curls, and everyone would know who had spoiled him.

-


End file.
